She was about to open her mouth to speak, perhaps to tell him how she really felt, when she suddenly heard a loud banging coming from somewhere off in the distance.
“What was that?” she gasped, sitting bolt upright.
In the second it took her dreaming mind to connect with her conscious mind, she realized that she was sitting bolt upright in bed at the top of the North Tower.
How did I get here? she asked herself. Then she suddenly remembered how Theo had insisted on flying her back to the palace. She had been much too weak to walk and besides, the beach was a good few miles from the castle. She remembered the way he had laid her down on the bed and kissed her forehead, telling her that he would have food brought up from the kitchen for her.
She must have fallen asleep shortly after because when she glanced around she saw that there was a plate of food sitting on the bedside table.
Why didn’t they wake me? she wondered but she didn’t have time to think on it for too long because she was almost spooked right out of bed by the sound of banging.
A smile quickly spread across her face as she wondered whether Theo had finally learned to knock. His previous visits had usually consisted of him storming into the room to argue with her before storming out again. Perhaps their encounter on the beach had changed him.
The banging came again, more insistent this time.
“I am coming, My Lord,” she called playfully. The words seemed to hold an all-new meaning now and she was still smiling to herself as she slipped off the bed and began to make her way toward the door. “I wasn’t expecting for you to be back so soon, Your Grace. Did you need something more from me?”
Please tell me you want more! The small voice in the back of her mind had been growing louder and more desire fueled of late. She was still smiling when she pulled open the door.
The smile quickly faded from her face and she felt the color draining from it too. Her stomach twisted so painfully that she almost doubled over. In an attempt to disguise it, she took a hurried step back to allow the visitor in.
“Your Grace?” Delilah scowled inquiringly as she stepped over the threshold. “Why would the king be knocking at your door, dear Fleur?”
She stepped into the room, twisting a piece of her silver hair around and around her finger, staring at Fleur with a suddenly unreadable expression.
“Oh, I...umm…” Fleur stammered over the words, unsure of what she could possibly say to get herself out of the hole she found herself in.
“And it’s so late,” Delilah commented, glancing admiringly around the room. “I can’t imagine it would look very good for you or the king if he were to come to your room so late at night.”
“I...uhh…” Fleur’s lips quivered but still she could not speak.
“You know, Fleur, I’m impressed.” Delilah nodded, glancing around the room once more before she turned ice blue eyes upon her. “I never imagined that my servant could rise so high.”
Fleur stood stock still, unable to move while Delilah looked her up and down. Her breath caught in her throat when the lady stepped forward and picked up a strand of her hair. She twisted the mousy strand around her finger and tugged slightly until Fleur winced.
“You know, there’s one thing I don’t quite understand,” the woman said, her voice beginning to sound more and more threatening. “How does one go from being a servant to the king’s mistress in just a few days?”
The king’s mistress? Fleur cringed and sucked up enough bravery to take a step back. “I am not the king’s mistress.”
“Really?” Delilah asked. Her face grew shocked but knowing her as Fleur did, she knew that it was all just an act. Delilah would never set foot in a room without knowing the entire situation. She also wouldn’t open her mouth on a subject unless she had good knowledge of what she was talking about. Fleur wasn’t sure how but she knew that Delilah definitely knew more than she was letting on.
“Then if you aren’t his mistress, what exactly are you?” Delilah demanded coldly.
That is a very good question, Fleur thought, her stomach twisting painfully because the truth was she had no idea of what the answer was.
“I...I’m nothing to the king.” Fleur forced the words out, dreading the thought that it might actually be true. Suddenly her memories of their time on the beach were not so happy. What if that was it? What if all she had been to him was sex?
That’s all I really can be to him, she realized. After all, the woman in front of her was the one he was set to marry. It had been arranged since they were all children. Fleur had grown up watching the two of them escort each other into royal balls and feasts and all the important events where couples were to be seen together. She had walked in the shadows, in Delilah’s shadow, for two-thirds of her life.
“If you are nothing to the king then how did you get such lovely accommodation?” Delilah demanded. She gripped hold of Fleur’s forearm then, her sharp nails biting into her flesh until she couldn’t help but wince again. “I mean, this room is even lovelier than I’m accustomed to, a room fit for a queen.”
“Ouch, you’re hurting me!” Fleur tried to yank her arm out of Delilah’s grip but Delilah was much stronger than she appeared.
“Did you think that I wouldn’t find out?” Delilah continued, gripping harder until Fleur felt as though her skin was tearing. “Did you honestly think you could go behind my back like this and I wouldn’t find out?”
Fleur had seen her mistress angry over the years but she had never seen her this angry, angry enough to hurt somebody.
“It wasn’t like that,” Fleur protested, flinching and crouching down in an attempt to ease the pressure on her arm. “I had no choice.”